


An Occupational Hazard

by Penny32



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny32/pseuds/Penny32
Summary: To be gifted the power of Death was an honor; to share in His fateline, an unexpected curiosity. For some reason, he had developed a strange and sudden proclivity for the taste of pomegranate. S/K.*Back by popular demand*





	1. Chapter 1

_Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it.  
Carlos Ruiz Zafon_

I:

It was a gray, misty day; a day made increasingly more ominous with the threat of the thunder rumbling in the distance, scenting the wind with ozone and darkness. It was a day made for shadows and horror, the perfect prelude to the scream-inducing battle that had broken out between the Shard Hunters and the rogue band of animalistic, red-eyed kitsune. 

Death had splattered viciously across the forest floor in scarlet streams and grotesque anatomical pieces, courtesy of Sesshoumaru, the Taiyoukai of the West and guardian of the young Rin. His finesse in the art of killing had never been more apparent than that day when every flash of his sword had resulted in an abhorrent, visual disregard for life. In the few moments that had comprised the battle, the silver-haired inuyoukai had personified the essence of brutality, filling the space between the barren trees with the sound of breaking bones and harsh, cut-off shrieks. 

Even Inuyasha had stopped attempting to assist his hated half-brother, leaning instead on an untransformed Tetsusaiga at the edge of the clearing near the Shard Hunters. 

The hanyou had only half-watched his elder sibling, trying not to admire his obvious skill. Instead, he was more interested by the miko's lack of reaction. Her blue eyes, so different from his former love, had watched the horror with a strange sense of numbness, as if the brutality of war no longer affected her. It made him wonder if she would wake up with nightmares this night as she usually did after such a battle. Ears twitching, he turned back to the center of the small clearing as silence fell over them, sudden and complete- broken sporadically with the whimpering of the terrified children as they hid near Kirara and Jaken, clutching at one another and trying not to look at their surroundings. 

His brother stood pristine in the middle of the massacre, absently flicking his sword clean, shoulders straight and stance loosening to relaxation. 

Then in the next instant, the Taiyoukai had whirled to the left, Bakusaiga pointed and gleaming towards the newcomer. Like puppets, the Shard Hunters mimicked his movement, turning around to find that the previously unoccupied darkness beneath the trees, was now occupied by a tall, foreboding shadow of a man. 

Kagome shivered as she looked at him, the light of her pure power strangely unaffected despite the clear danger this new individual represented. She cocked her head to the side, wondering, as the sheer magnitude of the shadow man's constrained power wafted into her metaphysical sense. Her eyes widened as a thought came to her. 

“Surely not,” she breathed. 

Fragments of ghostly light swirled around the tattered, black robes of the man, howling with the winter wind so eerily that the very sound made their flesh ripple with awareness- the feeling of prey before the hunter's fangs. They watched, terror beginning to creep into their nerves as a scepter- bloody and gleaming with malice rose over him, flickering into view like a specter. He faded in and out of the shadows, his clothing the source of the eerie wind, slowly, creepily filling them with a primal sense of fear. It was by reaction of pure instinct that they all clutched their weapons closer, knowing deep in their bones that this individual-whoever he was, was somehow completely impervious to their mortal defenses. Inuyasha transformed Tetsusaiga with white-knuckled hands, edging closer to Kagome, the weakest and most valuable link of his small group. She had cuddled the children into her shoulders, hiding them from the carnage. The dog-eared young male could smell her fear and he shifted his stance, drawing breath to speak aggressively past the fear in his gut. The newcomer spoke before the second son of the once-famed Dog General could say something rash. 

“Well done, Sesshoumaru, Heir of the Dog General.” Subtle, sardonic amusement and vague flashes of immeasurable power, echoed around them beneath a sudden and ferocious rise of the winter wind. 

Clutching Rin closer, the priestess of the Shikon no Tama peered curiously at the terrifying figure, her intellectual mind flipping through the myths and legends she knew, trying to place this new character in the drama that had become her life. As if detecting her perusal, the figure turned towards her and her hair flipped back with the force of the screaming winds, the frozen strands cutting her delicate skin to mar her neck with thin rivulets of blood. She lowered her gaze and twisted so that Rin was protected from the ferocity of the aura seeping around them, barely able to breathe past the sudden force, the cold. The petite young woman barely discerned the movement before her, so focused was she on remaining standing beneath the onslaught of the oppressive aura and the breath-stealing power. Fear curled from her fingertips and rose like a slow tide through her nerves to steal into her heart. She barely kept her scream in her throat, her whimpers from escaping into the air to join the cries of the scared children she held. 

Sesshoumaru shifted, drawing the figure's attention from the Shikon Priestess and his ward by kneeling in the bloodied, icy mud of the silent battleground, red and brown soaking through the white of his silken clothing. Behind him, he heard the humans and the half-breed follow his lead, satisfyingly cowed in the face of such distinct, overwhelming, nerve-numbing power. He could safely assume that the humans had probably never seen such an auspicious event before and as such had no idea as to what was occurring. 

After all, the gods rarely showed themselves to anyone on the mortal plane, only deigning to make appearances every few centuries or so. The monk was the only one of the Shard Hunters who would have any chance of comprehending the event before it was over. Certainly not his uneducated younger brother, the pathetic, woman slayer hunting Naraku, or the untrained Guardian of the Jewel. He scoffed especially at the last. 

The young priestess from the future seemed to be particularly lacking in her understanding of the nature of myth and legend, a testament to her environment as a child, no doubt. How strange, he mused, that she was one of the witnesses to such a phenomenon when she was barely able to digest the day to day occurrences of the past she had been cast to. To be sure, she was a curiosity unlike any other he had ever encountered. 

“Rise, son of the Dog General.” The God's voice slithered like far-off thunder, power muted now, its absence all the more terrifying for the knowledge of it. The young Taiyoukai was brought from his wandering thoughts quickly by the quiet words of a divine being. 

His ears twitched as he lifted himself from the ground, sword tip pointed towards the ground, focusing momentarily on Rin's shivering behind him. The miko holding her soothed her quickly, quieting her whimpers and allowing him to focus wholly on the God before him- Death, Lord of the Underworld, Brother to the Sea and the Sky. 

Sesshoumaru lifted guarded, golden eyes to Death's face, wondering if his soul was going to be reaped by the slim male before him. The God pushed his hood back and reduced the stinging ferocity of the howling winds, further easing his presence on the mortals he had appeared before. Interestingly, the God looked quite healthy instead of emaciated and skeletal as described in the old stories. He had a becoming face with the bone structure of foreign lands and eyes of black to match his hair. Upon his head he wore a circlet of aged silver, the jewels glowing with poisonous black flame, sparking green smoke. It was the helm of his power and the source of the breath-crushing aura, and it cast a strange, divine ambiance over their surroundings. 

A flash of light came from the God's side, revealing none other than Persephone, his famed wife and the personification of innocent beauty, Demeter's Sorrow. Sesshoumaru caught a glimpse of startlingly-beautiful, sea-green eyes caught in golden tendrils of hair and a happy, rosy smile before she turned to face her husband, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Good evening, Lord Death.” Death smiled at her. “Good evening, Lady Spring.” 

Then he turned back to Sesshoumaru, his hands lifting the circlet of black flame from his brow. With a twist of his wrist, the circlet became a bracelet, gleaming metal thickened with glowering, magical jewels. Another twist and the bracelet attached itself to Sesshoumaru's sword hand, clasped by shadowed power that he knew could only be broken by the God before him. 

Whatever the bracelet was for, he would not be able to remove it without pleasing this God, his patron God… or completing a task for him. If the old stories were true, then his patron was notoriously hard to please and he may or may not have just been enslaved for eternity. Interestingly, the bracelet did not feel any different on his skin than a regular piece of metal. 

Behind him, the priestess shifted and he knew, somehow, that she understood what had just happened- more clearly than he, himself, did. 

Strange that, when she was ignorant of so much else. 

Persephone touched it gently before bestowing Sesshoumaru with a pleased smile. “You have been honored, son of the Dog General, for paying such great homage to my husband's power.” 

He bowed low. “Death holds the greatest power over the mortal realm, Lady Spring.” 

She frowned and then smiled peaceably. “Death holds half the power over the mortal realm. Life holds the other half.” A pause. “You will learn the balance of mortality well, son of the Dog General. It is in your fate line- as it was in mine and my Lord's.” 

Sesshoumaru said nothing, confused by her words and quite unwilling to show it; though, he was sure that the deities before him already knew of his confusion. 

Hades shifted, placing an arm around his wife's waist. “You will take over my duties for the course of a year, son of the Dog General.” 

The priestess gasped behind him and spoke out of turn. “ _What?_ ” 

Sesshoumaru frowned when Inuyasha elbowed roughly her to keep her quiet, resulting in a small hiss of pain. Yes, she had spoken out of place but violence towards female pack members was entirely unnecessary. Idiot half-breed. He drew the gods' attention back to himself, not liking the amused curiosity in Persephone's eyes as she gazed over his shoulder at the priestess. The miko was the guardian of his ward and as such, by creed, he was guardian of her. A God's interest was often deadly, regardless of whether they wore the guise of Spring or Death. He spoke quickly, bowing his head to draw their attention once more. “It is an honor, Lord Hades. I ask your indulgence with an inquiry as to the reason.” 

He winced internally, wondering if he had overstepped his bounds; but, he knew that if he hadn't the priestess' life would have been forfeit for interrupting the God of Death. 

Surprisingly, it was Persephone who answered, sharing a strange and secret smile with her husband. “We are going on vacation, Sesshoumaru.” She paused, gazing at the dark-haired, blue-eyed priestess for a long moment. “An additional requirement for the honor gifted by my Lord to you?” 

She looked at Death for permission, smiling when he nodded. “You,” she turned to Sesshoumaru, the scent of pomegranate flowers beginning to fill the air, “are to take care of the Shikon no Miko.” 

So saying, the pair disappeared into the shadows, a dark-leafed baby plant growing in the space where they had last stood. For a moment, no one moved then the hanyou jumped up. 

“What the hell does that mean?!” He shouted, the snow-filled clearing ringing with his irritation. He turned to a flabbergasted Sango and Miroku, waiting for them to regain their wits so they could plan around the stupid Goddess's decree. Largely ignored by them as they began to discuss the implications of the divine decree, Kagome, fascinated by the recent event, was inching closer to Sesshoumaru. 

Sesshoumaru turned, carefully searching the surrounding area and sealing the memory within his conscious. It wouldn't do to forget the place of his patron's favored fruit tree- the reason his wife remained with him in the underworld, by his side instead of her mother's. As he watched, the tree grew taller and taller, going through seasons with the speed of rainfall until at last, it bore its first fruit. The petals fell gently away onto the snowy ground, preceding the sudden, harsh smashing of the ripe pomegranate. Seeds flew like droplets of blood to stain the patch of white snow, revealing a small, black-winged creature in the center of the fruit. 

Kagome peeked around Sesshoumaru's arm, eyes wide with delight as the wings began to unfurl and flicker. “It's a death fairy, a Hell butterfly… your guide for your new duties, Sesshoumaru-sama.” 

He glanced at the small, high-cheeked face of the mortal priestess, astonished to see a pair of numbers over her head. “19,” he murmured softly, wonderingly. 

A tiny, breathy voice spoke up beneath him. “It is the amount of time she has, my Lord. Until such time as she will become 0 and you return for her soul.” 

He glanced down at the black-winged butterfly, his heart beating strangely in his chest. “She only has 19 years left? That is too young for the death of a human.” 

Kagome looked at him wide-eyed, before frowning at the butterfly. He could hear her pulse speed up, the blood rushing in her veins. She pushed a strand of her glossy black hair behind her ear, hands falling to fiddle with her tunic top. Clearly, she knew what he was talking about and knew what it meant for her- she would be dead before she was 40. 

“Months, my Lord.” The Hell butterfly finally seemed to have dried out its wings and began fluttering them, trying to take off. “The rest will live longer, if you would but look.” 

Sesshoumaru swore he felt his heart stop and absently wondered why, even as he blinked at the priestess now frowning at the circle of her friends. His gaze shifted to the others and he saw what the Hell butterfly was speaking of. The others had pairs of numbers over their heads separated by a single line: the years and months of life left. He felt vaguely sick as he returned his gaze to the priestess, catching her eyes and seeing the fear and sorrow within them. 

As he watched, her spine straightened, resignation flitting through her gaze before being replaced by resolution and… happiness? He cocked his head to the side. 

“Everyone faces Death at some point.” She smiled up at him, answering his silent question before walking towards her friends. 

The corners of his straight mouth turned down just slightly as he watched her walk through the snow, her long hair swaying in the cold wind. The Hell butterfly settled on his shoulder. “Of all of them, she is the most deserving of a long, happy life.” 

“The Lord of Death can not grant Life.” The butterfly fluttered in front of his face before flying away. “I will take you to the Palace.” 

“Hold,” he commanded the butterfly, unwilling to take orders from the harbinger of bad news- why he considered the priestess's early death bad news, he wasn't quite sure. He gave her the honor of her name, knowing she probably wouldn't respond immediately if he didn't. To their mutual surprise, it came out sounding intimate and strangely, correct in its intimacy. “ _Kagome_.” 

She turned, eyes glimmering like the ocean in the light of the dusk, her beauty striking against the stark black and white of the winter forest. He felt that strange jump in his heartbeat again and decided to ignore it. It would be folly to become interested in a creature with so little time left in the world. She cocked her head to the side curiously and her hair fell over her shoulder to frame her stunning eyes with darkness. “Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama?” 

He held out a small pendant, a crescent carved from one of his adolescent claws. It had been his first successful attempt at protection spells. “Your protection has been remanded unto my keeping. This will notify me when you are in life-threatening danger.” 

She smiled at the irony of her life being protected by Death and took it in her mittened hands. “Do you know why you were ordered by the Goddess Persephone to protect me?” 

He shook his head before turning away and calling back over his shoulder. “Keep it on your person at all times, priestess. Naraku is a complex foe.” 

Kagome watched as the shadows swept them up and instinctively knew that he and the Hell butterfly were gone from this plane. If she tried to track him, she would find nothing- only a few of his footsteps in the snow. Quickly, before Inuyasha could do something stupid like take the pendant from her, she slipped it onto the chain holding the shards.


	2. Chapter 2

_I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who overcomes his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self. -Aristotle_

II: 

Five Days Later… 

His black cloak floated behind him with the strength of the storm’s wind, his hair whipping his patrician cheeks like shards of ice. Still, he was unaffected. He could barely feel anything anymore- not cold or warmth, not the sting of a sword’s sharp edge against his flesh or the corrosive pain of acid. The only flavors he enjoyed, he could taste, were blood and pomegranate. His skin had paled until he looked like a ghost with glowing golden eyes and silver-white hair dressed in Death’s shadowed cloak. 

He frightened most of the souls he reaped with his appearance alone… not that he minded. The terrified ones were easier to send to the Ferryman and then the Gates. Still, he could do without the visions of the Lives he was sending to Death’s domain. Most of his victims deserved to die, having lived the entirety of their lives or having been cruel or unjust or useless. 

Truly, the only creature he was going to regret reaping was the one placed under his protection. She, the priestess Kagome, truly deserved more than the Fates had decreed. 

He wondered if he should tell her she only had months left to live. It would be the right thing to do. He landed at the mouth of the cave, walking swiftly deeper into the dark towards the flickering red-gold light of a fire and the shadows of the people around it. 

The half-breed was the first to bare his fangs at his older brother, the miko was the first to smile at him; and, it was the latter which made his heart skip a beat again. He frowned inwardly, wondering at the physical reaction despite the recent deadening of his senses as Death’s temporary surrogate. He hadn’t actually felt his heartbeat after his first steps into the Underworld; and, as had been explained to him by the Hell butterfly, he had slowly begun to take on the lack of sensation experienced by Death. For, in order to use the power of Death appropriately, he had to more fully embody his characteristics- many of which comprised of a lack of Life’s senses. 

As such, his physical reaction to the priestess was most curious. She had given him a heartbeat, if only for a moment. Most curious, indeed. 

His Hell butterfly, named Arro, settled on his shoulder, flickering droplets of snow off of himself. “You have only three more souls to reap before Dawn, my Lord.” 

He still hadn’t figured out how the little butterfly knew that information; but, he supposed it didn’t truly matter so long as the job got done. His voice, when he spoke, was as cold as the wind outside, as deep as the caverns leading to the Underworld. It was both similar and dissimilar to the voice he had carried in Life. “Good evening. How do you fare, Kagome?” 

He saw her smile fade slightly, her head cock to the side, the damp strands clinging to her neck and making her shiver. She had picked up on the change in his voice and he couldn’t help but wonder why it unsettled her. “I fare well, Sesshoumaru-sama.” She paused, lowering her curious gaze to the fire. “Please, if you have time, join us.” 

The butterfly shivered on his shoulder. “Death has no place at Life’s table.” 

Sesshoumaru shook his head and turned away, eyes flickering to the 18 above her head. The counter had changed already? 

He heard her light footsteps as he walked back towards the cavern mouth and stopped, waiting for her and wondering why she was coming so close to the cold. Didn’t she know it would accelerate her own death? 

Why did he care if she died so quickly when he was becoming numb even to emotions? The bracelet sparked green against his wrist, illuminating her icicle-blue eyes with the God’s magic. Vaguely, he realized that her mouth had a Cupid’s bow curve to it when she smiled. 

“Thank you for waiting, Sesshoumaru-sama.” Her smile faded and his own mouth turned down in reaction. “You have changed since taking on Death’s power.” 

She looked at him, searching his face in the half-dark of the shadowed fire and the white storm outside. Her hand reached to touch him and her fingers felt like fire against his skin. 

His eyes widened as hers narrowed. “You are very cold, Sesshoumaru-sama. Please come join us by the fire.” 

The butterfly fluttered. “Death can not be warmed by mortal flame.” 

“The fire will not warm me, Kagome.” He answered her, oddly wanting to erase the worry in her gaze. She smelled like snowflowers and woodsmoke. Unconsciously, he leaned closer to her. 

Her eyes widened in dismay and he felt his lips curl upwards in a small smile at her irrational worry. She watched him, surprised by the show of amusement so rarely displayed. “It is alright. My time as Death’s surrogate has given me immortal characteristics. I do not need the warmth of mortal sun or flame.” 

Her frown returned and her hands drifted to clasp in front of her, worry apparent in her expression. “You are still mortal, Sesshoumaru-sama. Take care that the gift of immortality does not injure you, please.” 

He stepped back, the butterfly beginning to fly towards the storm. “Return to your fire, Kagome. The cold will reach you much faster than it reaches me.” 

She sneezed as he finished his sentence and he watched as her number changed to 15. The sickness she had just exposed herself to by following him was going to drain her for days. Ultimately, the sickness would shorten her life. 

“Go back,” he commanded, turning from her dwindling life quickly, ignoring the hurt in her eyes with his brusque behavior. His heart squeezed within him at the sight of the numbers over her head, the memory of her touch like a brand of fire in the quickly deadening world he had been gifted.


	3. Chapter 3

_Your light pliantly_  
Strikes the water tower like a   
Lightening bolt  
That severs the source of my life.  
-Tite Kubo 

III:

_Four weeks later…_

Kagome frowned, staring thoughtfully at the pendant around her neck. When she had first received it, she had been intrigued to find that she could feel the emotions of the gifter through it- awe, interest, anger, irritation. The latter, she was amused to note, occurred more often than any of the others in the daiyoukai’s temporary new life; but now, she could barely feel anything but cold from it. It was colder than the winter around her, cold like Death; and, intuitive reasoning stated that the pendant, tied to the inuyoukai who had given it to her, was presenting her with a problem.

After all, Sesshoumaru was a mortal being and, even with the power of Death, no mortal could embody such cold as to not be affected by it. It was going to change him, mark him in ways she couldn’t imagine and she wasn’t sure if he knew, either. Dropping her head back to look at the skeleton trees, she sighed gustily, releasing a puff of fog into the air.

He hadn’t come to see her since that first post-Death-honor meeting and she was beginning to wonder if he was avoiding her. That thought was often followed by the realization that she was being a silly girl and that her crush on the inuyoukai was not reciprocated. It was foolish of her to think he would be avoiding her because avoidance meant he didn’t want to see her which meant he had personal reasons not to see her. Of course, Sesshoumaru-sama didn’t have any personal reasons to see or not to see her. It implied an emotional involvement with her.

She sighed. Clearly, she was hopeless and overthinking things. Again. Not only was she going to die before she reached middle-age but she was going to die a virgin. She was quite sure that her long-ago graduation between crush to love was actually the worst thing to ever happen to her. She cursed her seemingly-inevitable ability to fall for the guy who would never, ever, in-a-million-bloody-years, _ever_ love her back. First Inuyasha. Then Sesshoumaru.

Heaven help her.

She dropped the claw when it suddenly warmed in her hands, wondering why it sometimes did that too. Abruptly, she sighed and went back to moping as she trudged along in the melting snow behind her friends.   
Maybe her next life would grant her better luck?

Within a moment her world had turned into a blur of darkness and she was grasping onto shadows come to life, wrapping them around her hands and shivering with their cold. Her world was stilled in the space of a breath, her thoughts scattered with the sudden movement of being carried into the sky by large hands and a tall frame. Instead of looking up, she looked down. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the large, bloody bull youkai lying in tatters beneath her feet. Next to it, her friends stared up at her with expressions of dawning horror. Inuyasha’s hand was on his sword, still sheathed and clearly not drawn in time to defend her.

He had been unusually distracted and slow as of late, more irate than was normal as well. She had begun to keep the jewel shards as far from him as possible, knowing that it was their whispers which were distracting her hanyou friend so thoroughly.

“Good afternoon, Kagome.” Sesshoumaru’s voice rumbled like a storm beneath her cheek as her arms wound more firmly around his neck and her thighs clasped his waist. He felt like a firm block of ice beneath his clothing, his skin smooth and unscarred beneath her fingers. His cloak, a living embodiment of his patron God’s power, shifted around her like icy mist, strangely sensual and intriguing.

Trying not to hyperventilate at his closeness, she peeked up at him, unable to help the smile that came to her lips when he sheathed his sword and wrapped his other arm around her. Despite being cold, he felt amazing and her traitorous heart sighed with delight. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be crushing on him. “Good afternoon, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

He glanced momentarily at the half-breed when the idiot started demanding he return the priestess. Sesshoumaru blithely ignored the hanyou below them and looked over the young woman in his arms, gaze falling on a small gash along her cheek. Quickly, he pulled the shadows of Death’s power around his form and transported the pair of them to the Palace of the Underworld so that she could be healed without the risk of infection.

Kagome gasped in delight as she looked around the bone-white marble room, decorated with the tapestries of the muses and the greatest of the artisans to inhabit Death’s realm. He had brought her to the trophy room, knowing she would appreciate looking at the legends embodied in each displayed item.

A thought brought the Healer’s shade to his side. Without a word, the shade healed her wound, knowing that a mortal’s time in the Underworld was limited. Even as they watched her number went from 14 to 13 and her breaths grew shallow, her skin paling.

Cursing himself for his thoughtlessness, Sesshoumaru returned them to the mortal realm, a few feet from her friends in the shadows of the woods. He watched as she regained her breath, as her skin turned rosy once more. Despite his desire to prolong her life with the magical healing, the number 13 turned 12.

He had been a fool to take her to Death’s realm when she was already so close to entering it. No mortal could remain unaffected by the Underworld and now she would be alive for only a year more. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires up at him at the wonder she had witnessed, unaware of the reduction to her lifespan because of his actions. Her beauty, the life and brightness in the curve of her rosy mouth struck him silent once more. Her touch warmed his arms where her hands rested against him and he reveled in it, not having felt warmth for a whole moon cycle.

Still, he steeled his heart and turned the knowledge of what little time she had left to silence in his mouth. She deserved to know but he did not want to tell her. He did not want to be the one to forever mar her beauty and he could only hope that Death returned before Kagome’s time was up. His voice was soft when he turned her towards her friends, his eyes drifting to her mouth, hands falling from her waist. “Return to your friends, Kagome.”

And then he was gone and Kagome was left alone. She clutched the pendant and wondered at the feel of Sesshoumaru’s sorrow, his sense of loss.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

_There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon. -Matsuo Basho_

IV: 

_One and a half weeks later…_

She lay like a cast-aside doll beneath the bare branches of the Sakura trees, limbs akimbo, feeling the vague warmth of the coming Spring in the breeze and ignoring the cold she was no doubt going to get by being outside. 

“Go inside, priestess.” 

She started at the sound of his voice, frowning minutely when she realized he had regressed into calling her by her station and not her name. The lack of familiarity hurt and she fought not to let it show. The pendant touching her skin beneath her shirt had warmed minutely and she cocked her head to the side in curiosity, not knowing that it was her mere presence which engendered the same response in the daiyoukai beside her. 

Blithely ignoring his order, she flipped her hair back, letting the freshly-washed, glossy black strands fall haphazardly down her back. She smiled over her shoulder at him, unaware of her own unconscious loveliness. The pendant warmed further against her collar bone but she didn’t notice, too aware of how her own pulse was beginning to race. “Join me, Sesshoumaru-sama. Tell me of your journey as Death’s Surrogate. It must be interesting.” 

The butterfly fluttered but remained silent against his shoulder and so Sesshoumaru settled next to her on the grass, closer than usual so that he could feel her against his skin. She was like a sauna, a memory of heat that flashed through his deadened senses like lightening and thrilled him with the desire for more. His heart beat loudly twice when he turned to look down into her eyes- blue as wildflowers in the early spring. 

She had a warrior’s eyes- as lovely and long-lashed as a dreamer’s but jaded and cautious, every conscious of her surroundings. He could only imagine what emotion must have shown through that clear gaze in her childhood. Her happiness would have likened to the sun. Then, he turned back to the blush of green rising across the valley, breaking the connection and stilling his heart. 

For a moment longer, they remained in silence as he tried to withdraw himself from his thoughts, reveling in the pure _feeling_ she gave him. 

He was only beginning to comprehend the after effects of his stint at immortality. 

As a mortal, it was unnatural to no longer sense the world he had grow up in. The absence of sound and touch, of _scent_ , was slowly beginning to drive him to the brink of insanity, and he was finally beginning to hate the second sight of Life giving way to Death every time he reaped a soul. The honor he had been gifted was beginning to weigh him down; but, he supposed, that as a mortal being, he was truly, intrinsically, not meant for the power of an immortal God. 

He hadn’t realized how much he appreciated the feel of the wind against his face, the scent of trees and flowers and earth, the warmth of fire and people. Even the memory of what he had once held as everyday sensation was beginning to fade. The only color in his black and white world was quickly becoming the priestess he was required to protect. 

Interestingly, she was also the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Even Rin and Jaken, his personal Court advisors, and his own mother held a shade of fear within them when he went to check on them now. He supposed it was because Death was only supposed to visit people when their time in Life had finished. Still, he’d assumed they would understand that his responsibilities in Life were still his own. He was only holding the mantle of Death for a short time… their fear of him was unnecessary and quickly becoming an unpleasant burden. 

“It is,” he paused, wondering if he should truly talk to the girl and then deciding she was a curiosity he needed answers to, “strange to have such power.” 

“A mortal with an immortal’s power,” she mused aloud and lifted his clawed hand, unabashed at the breach of polite conduct and echoing his thoughts like a parrot. She studied the darkening magenta lines, tracing them absently with her finger tip, tracing flame across his skin. Tingles ran up the length of his arm from her touch and his hand curled around hers, startling her. 

His mouth parted and wonder flitted through his eyes at the feeling. He had to distract himself so he spoke once more to distract her, to stop her hands against his cold skin. “Your kind believe youkai to be immortal.” 

She laughed, her hands stilling and he breathed silently in relief. “Long-lived, yes; but, immortal, no… else you would not be on this plane, Sesshoumaru-sama. This is the mortal plane and there are very few immortals who can remain here just as there are very few mortals who remain on the immortal plane. The legends are very specific.” 

“You are educated.” It was a statement but she elaborated regardless. He watched, fascinated as a charming smile carved her features into beauty framed by dark hair and creamy skin. His heart skipped a beat once more and he frowned at its seeming inability to refrain from doing that near this young woman. 

“I abhor being dim-witted, Lord Sesshoumaru.” She chuckled and leaned in conspiratorially, filling his nose with the scent of snowflowers and jasmine, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Some of my companions do not share my opinion.” 

He smirked at her statement, golden eyes lighting up wickedly with humor and stunning the breath from her. He was insanely pleased that she did not have the highest opinion of his younger brother. Really, he shouldn’t be that pleased. “No, Kagome. They do not.” 

“There is a soul ripe for reaping nearby.” The butterfly flicked its wings, voice heard only by the white-haired Taiyoukai. 

Sesshoumaru stood, muscles moving with a warrior’s fluidity and unknowingly making Kagome’s heart skip a beat. He nodded down at her, his eyes warm in the patrician cut of his face, his hair framing his body like strands of ice. He was Death in that moment and she trembled at the power he had grown used to carrying. It swirled around him like shadow and mist, pressing through the air and making it difficult to breathe, shivering across her skin like a medieval brand. “Stay well, Kagome.” 

He wrapped the darkness around him, his form blurring and then fading into the dusk, leaving her with the faint warmth of his pendant against the cold pulse racing in her throat. 

She sat back with a shudder, trying to reconcile the image of the old Sesshoumaru with the new one. Worry grew beneath her sternum and her hands reached up to caress the small claw at her throat. 

Could a creature of Life really be Death? What would happen when he was returned to their plane? Would he go mad from the loss of power? From the want of that power once it was no longer his?


	5. Chapter 5

_A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. - Robert Frost_

V: 

_Four Weeks Later…_

“Kagome,” he whispered in her ear, Arro fluttering over their heads in lazy circles. “Wake up.” 

She murmured, her braided her wrapped around her throat as she shifted in his hold. Sleepy blue eyes blinked lazily open and he barely refrained from smiling at her attempt at hiding her yawn. “Sesshoumaru-sama?” 

“I’ve kidnapped you from your friends.” He stated softly, the rush of the wind adding a cadence to his words. Lanterns flickered behind him, ghostly beneath the evening skies and darkening clouds. The scent of rain and foreign spices came to her nose and she wriggled, blinking sleepily at his statement. 

“You could’ve just asked, you know,” she said, voice husky from disuse as he put her on her feet. She winced at the feel of the cold ground beneath her toes and then wondered why the ground felt cold to her but he didn’t. 

Before she could ask about the strange occurrence, Sesshoumaru gestured to the small crevasse at the side of the cliff from which a thin waterfall tinkled down. They were standing on a very small ledge and beneath them, a faint glimmer leading down the gorge indicated a river. “This,” he smirked, “is the entrance to the Underworld. The River Styx,” he gestured at the waterfall and down beneath them, “is the only connecting factor between the mortal realm and the realm of the dead.” 

Her mouth dropped open in shock before she grinned, surprising him. “Wicked awesome!” 

He eyed her in her excitement for a moment, trying to understand how a mortal could be so excited about being shown the entrance to the Underworld by Death’s surrogate. 

She turned, eyes sparkling, distracting him. “Where’s the Ferryman? And the boat? Would I be able to see the souls too?” 

Sesshoumaru laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You are the most peculiar creature I have ever met.” 

Kagome blushed. “Sorry. I’m a mythology nut.” 

He rested his hand on Bakusaiga, a gesture familiar with his old self. “It is of no consequence, priestess. I have shown you this place so that you have an escape route should you need it.” 

Kagome snorted. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill myself rather than hike all the way up here?” 

His good humor disappeared at her words and his eyes glinted silver-gold with his anger. “You will do no such thing.” 

Kagome took a step back, suddenly frightened of the figure in front of her. Power whirled around him like wind, flashed in his silver-gold eyes like lightening. He looked like the ghost of an avenging angel against the rising storm. She gulped. “No,” she whispered, “no, I wouldn’t.” 

“This is a last resort, Kagome. Inuyasha,” he looked away from her, towards the rays of setting sun peeking through the far off clouds, “has not been overly stable of late- the jewel is beginning to work on him. If he fails to protect you and I am busy with my duties, then you must find a source of water and think of me. Take a breath and close your eyes. You will feel like you are drowning but when you wake, you will be here, on this ledge and I will find you.” 

Kagome gave a soundless gasp, heart stilling at his last words. She cursed herself for not getting over her crush but the words were out before she could keep them from him. “You’ll find me?” 

He bent down, smiling into her eyes, the tall frame of his body cool to the touch even through the layers of their clothing. “Yes, Kagome. I will find you. It is my honor to keep you safe, Lady Priestess.” 

He chuckled when she blushed bright red before wrapping them in shadows and soundlessly depositing her on her sleeping bag. 

Kagome dreamt with a silly smile on her face the rest of the night and when she woke, she whistled. 

~*~ 

_Two Months Later…_

Kagome huffed in annoyance as she slapped another budding tree branch away from her face, her friends keeping a wary distance from her. It had been four weeks since she had last seen Sesshoumaru and she was beginning to worry about him all the while knowing how foolish it was to worry. 

After all, what could harm Death? 

Still, in addition to going exhaustedly over and over their interactions, she worried. He had come to see her regularly after that conversation at the end of winter and while they exchanged no more than a few sentences, their meetings were precious to her. The pretty, black-haired miko sighed as she trudged on, kicking stray rocks. Their meetings were also incontrovertibly revealing of the strain he was beginning to suffer carrying Hades’ power. 

She chewed her lip as she thought back to the things he had unconsciously told her about taking on the mantle of Death. Her Taiyoukai friend could no longer taste any food save the bloodiest of steaks and the ripest of pomegranates. He could barely feel warmth or cold. He couldn’t smell anything anymore- he just knew what it was supposed to smell like and why and how long it had been alive. 

That last one had truly disconcerted him since as an inuyoukai he had once relied heavily on his sense of smell. 

Then again, he had gained more than he had lost in terms of ability and power. He was faster, stronger, near invincible for the time being, his knowledge of spells and auras, foreign magics increasing day by day. He had told her once that he now saw the world through sparks and souls and that it was more wondrous than anything he had ever seen before. He had looked at her then and his eyes had become so, so sad, looking over her head. 

When his eyes had found hers again, her heart had almost stopped at the _emotion_ she had seen in him. Then he had disappeared and she had been left to decipher what the hell it was that she had seen, what it meant for her. 

Above her, cloaked in the invisibility of Death, Sesshoumaru watched her stomp loudly through the forest, having taken care of the two youkai that had been trailing the small band hours ago. His mouth tightened when she hissed and mopped at a cut on her hand. Inuyasha had turned to the miko and was watching her with a look akin to obsession, his gaze on the bottle around her neck for a second longer than usual- it didn’t bode well. 

Still, he didn’t go down and speak with them. He was avoiding her. 

No, he frowned. He was avoiding the knowledge that soon she would belong only to Hades and that he would never see her again. 

The thought bothered him significantly more than he knew it should. 

“You have 198 souls to reap by Evening’s fall, Lord Death.” The butterfly, Arro, drifted around his head and eventually he turned to follow it. 

He did not want to acknowledge how attached he had grown to the charming young human, how he was beginning to collect small gifts for her that matched the color of her eyes, the shade of her lips. 

His father was no doubt laughing at him from the grave.


	6. Chapter 6

_Now a soft kiss- aye by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.- John Keats_

VI: 

_One Month Later…_

“Good evening, Kagome.” He stepped into the circle of light cast by their fire, watching the hanyou fall out of the tree in surprise. Once he would have felt pleased at the reaction he got out of the fool. 

She turned to look at him, her seaside-blue eyes serious, weighing. It made him want to fidget even as he began to bask in the warmth of her presence. The number over her head was 7. She had seven months left to live and he had six months left of being Death’s surrogate. He could not help but be grateful that her soul was not his to reap. 

The reaping could be painful and he had discovered after hours of contemplation that he had no desire to cause her pain. Ever. 

His eyes widened as he watched her _turn away from him_. Sesshoumaru waited a heart beat longer for her to rescind her inappropriate response to his greeting, ignoring the strangely painful sensation in his chest. When she didn’t offer him any words, he growled- an inuyoukai gesture and one he hadn’t used since he had taken on Hades’ powers. 

It startled all of them- even Inuyasha finally picking himself up near the base of the fire. The inu-hanyou growled back, low and almost feral, making both Sango and Miroku look at him, their hands going reflexively towards their weapons. Neither one forgot the last time Inuyasha had sounded like that- two weeks ago when Kagome had almost lost their shards in a flooded rice paddy. It had been a close call and only her command of the enchanted rosary and her ability to relocate the small bottle had saved them. 

He was close to his beast now, too close for comfort for his companions and the call of the Jewel was such that he didn't notice what he once would have. Once, a few months ago, he would have been horrified to see _fear_ in their eyes. 

Now Sango kept a cautious hand on her boomerang before returning her attention to Death’s surrogate and her best friend. Miroku kept his eyes on the increasingly-agitated inu-hanyou, his hand growing tight on his staff. 

Though aware of the small side drama, Sesshoumaru ignored it and focused his attention on the rigid form of the priestess and her pretty blue eyes. Her form, he noticed, was perfectly outlined by the black shirt and leggings she wore- sensual but completely indecent. He could see her confusion and knew that it was largely his fault; but, he was angry. She, of all people, was not allowed to ignore him. When he spoke, he ordered and the clearing rang with it. “Come here, Kagome.” 

The black-haired miko straightened, her slim form coiled like a viper with her irritation. Her eyes noticeably drifted over the dark cloak and fell on the bracelet. “As Lord Death wishes.” The tilt of her head was mocking and Inuyasha’s anxious growl was cut off as he gaped at her, walking across the campsite towards the white-haired demi-god, so clearly unafraid of such a powerful being. 

Without a word, Sesshoumaru lifted her in his arms, inwardly reveling in the warmth she seeped into him, and ferried them away into the night. Behind them, the hanyou’s loud, belated objections fell away to silence. He released her reluctantly when their feet touched sand, unwrapping the shadows from around them slowly so that the orange-gold of the setting sun was revealed to her in minute, stunning increments. The waves lapped at the shore bare feet away, gentle and soothing, framed by palm leaves and waving fronds, completely untouched by mankind. 

He watched as the tension left her shoulders before she lifted one hand to her eyes and her head bowed. Her hair fell in a black, curling curtain over her shoulder, hiding her face from him. He almost smiled when he realized she _had_ liked it. 

Then he took a moment to watch her, felt the tension beneath his hands and knew that she was about to start crying. 

He had never seen her cry before. Not once. He found his anger draining away at this realization, his limbs filling with the warmth and comfort of her presence. He sniffed discretely and almost purred as the scent of hibiscus and jasmine came to him. 

Gently, aware of his enhanced strength, he turned her to face him. When she didn’t lift her face to him, he kneeled before her and peered up, catching sight of the tears glimmering in her eyes before she closed them and turned her face away again. 

He almost smiled when he realized she was still beautiful even when crying. Many of the souls he had reaped would have been insanely jealous of such a trait… worthless fools. Focusing his thoughts, he turned her chin towards his gaze, trying to ignore the slight anxiety he was feeling through his awareness of her. “Why are you crying?” 

She shook her head and tried to turn away, to compose herself. He didn’t let her, vaguely surprised when the Hell butterfly landed on her shoulder, its wings tickling her cheek. His concern was apparent when he spoke, demanding answers. “ _Kagome_.” 

Kagome’s heart fluttered at the way he said her name and she wondered if she should just tell him the secret of her heart for the relief of having him know. She shook her head. “It’s _silly_.” 

He frowned. She was lying. Whatever had caused the tears of one as strong as she had proven herself to be, could not possibly be silly and so he waited for her to trust him. He drew her down to kneel on the sand before him, his cloak falling away from his shoulders to pool behind them like a giant shadow. 

Kagome looked over his changed apparel beneath her lashes, her tears drying as he wiped them away. He wore a black haori and hakama, a white sash holding his swords to his waist, his markings a dark red against his white skin. In the fading, red light he looked like a ghost made of silver and gold, a creature from legend, almost untouchable. 

She turned back to the sunset, watching the play of light on the water, the streaks of gold cutting through the red of the sky and white of the clouds. The air was scented with hibiscus and coconut and rain, green, growing things that shuddered in the gentle breeze. 

She had been brought to paradise on Earth by Death, himself; the one who held her heart. She knew he could not truly appreciate the beauty of what he was showing her, that he had brought her here for her personal pleasure. Indeed, he was more interested in her than he was in the scene and she knew somewhere deep inside of her what his actions meant. Kagome was terrified of the knowledge, was panicked at the realization that maybe her love wasn’t so unrequited. 

What was she to do if it wasn’t? What was she to do it if it was? It would change everything. 

She released a long breath, smiling when the Hell butterfly tickled her cheek again. She turned to Sesshoumaru slowly, eyes roving over his still form. 

Before, he had been the embodiment of war and now he was the embodiment of death. The end game every mortal creature played kneeled before her, allowing her the time to gather her thoughts. His armor was black, his clothes were black and he was still so, so beautiful it almost hurt her to look at him. She raised her eyes to his, away from the indentation of his throat. His eyes were warm when they looked at her, affectionate with that hint of ever-present sadness. “ _Kagome_ ,” he murmured softly, his voice husky. 

She smiled at the sound of her name, eyes falling to her clasped hands, words tumbling out before she could lose her courage. “I am falling in love with you.” 

He stilled, his heart beating loudly within his ears. An acute sensation filled within him, made his limbs lethargic and filled him with- it took him a moment to place the emotions, happiness, surprise, shock. 

That was an unexpected revelation. 

She looked up at him again, nervous and then… happy? Her hand lifted and touched the corner of his mouth, her touch like fire. 

“You’re _smiling_ ,” she said with a laugh. 

He was, wasn’t he? He was… warm and pleased and it took him a long, long moment to remember the name of the emotion once more. Unconsciously, his hand lifted and traced her mouth, memorizing the curve of her smile by feeling, the heat of her seeping into him. Her mouth was as soft as a flower’s petal. “You are beautiful, Kagome.” 

Her mouth parted in surprise and he placed his thumb over her rosy lips, wondering if she would allow him to steal her breath with a kiss. He leaned closer, filling his lungs with the scent of hibiscus and jasmine. His broad shoulders cast her into shadow and she absently pondered on feeling so safe in the embrace of such a terrible power, but the thought was swept away as she spread her fingers against the strength of his chest. Her hands slid to his arms, his circling her waist and then he froze, eyes closing, listening. 

She stilled next to him, squeaking when he gathered her close and disappeared with her into the shadows. They reappeared at her campsite, startling her friends. He lifted her face to his from where she had burrowed into his shoulder, stepping away from her warmth and offered her disappointment as explanation. “A great battle is about to begin. Stay well, Kagome.” 

The Hell butterfly lifted from her shoulder, settled against Sesshoumaru’s neck and they were gone. Slowly, her heart beat returned to normal, the flush in her skin cooled beneath the curtain of spring stars. 

Her group mates remained silent, busying themselves with the evening meal, allowing her to gather herself. The silence, she knew, was largely attributed to the absence of her hanyou friend. She could see the vague outline of the soul collectors through the trees. 

She ran a hand through her hair as she turned towards her sleeping bag, refraining from taking her frustration out on the trunk of a tree.


	7. Chapter 7

_Gravitation is not responsible for us falling in love.- Albert Einstein_

VII: 

The Next Evening… 

He forced himself to breathe, to remember what it felt like to expand and detract his chest muscles and feel the air within him. In. He counted. Out. 

In. Out. In. Out. In. 

He growled, frustrated with himself when the remembrance of her touch seared through him like a branding, broke his focus like a flash of lightening across his senses. The sight of her standing in the rosy sunlight on that far away beach waiting for him to kiss her was like a curse that even the reaping of so many bloodied, cruel souls had not erased. 

It should be impossible but he was quickly discovering that it was not. His heart skipped a beat when he caught the flash of a bluebird and thought of her eyes, he began to breathe again when he was in her presence if only to catch traces of her scent on the wind. He began to feel like he was _living_ once more when he imagined her, felt her. 

Cursing, he conjured the scepter and turned to the enemy camp, his cloak flooding the clearing with Death’s power, his eyes glowing scarlet with the bracelet around his wrist. He was _not_ his father’s son. He was _not_ going to fall in love with a being clearly enwrapped in a catastrophic tale, a being who had only bare months left to live. He was _not_ going to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable once she was taken by Death. 

“Soldier,” he smirked evilly at the pale, sweaty man clutching an infected arm, “let’s play a game…” 

~*~ 

_One Month Later…_

Avoiding her clearly hadn’t helped, he mused, amusedly watching her step on his flattened half-brother in the glass bowl, glee and fear warring in her eyes as the hanyou shouted. Convinced that his brother wouldn’t go insane on her for the time being, he turned away to look over the dead gardens, wondering how Lady Spring found solace in the twisted remains of dead trees and volcanic sand, the cold jewels a mere mimic of the beauty of true flowers. Unabashedly, his thoughts returned to his priestess. 

He hadn’t truly suffered from their separation apart from occasional chest pains, but his priestess had cried herself to sleep after the first week of his absence, had turned her sorrow to rage the second week, and in true form, had used her rage to fuel their hunt for the sacred jewel. Even without his protection, she had been undefeatable, dispatching youkai before they could be touched by Tetsusaiga, obtaining shards at a record pace. Her pack mates were growing wary of both her and the hanyou now. It wouldn’t be long before their final confrontation with the spider hanyou… and then Kagome would have to face the other corrupted Jewel seeker. 

A slight frown marred his forehead as his thoughts took a darker turn. Inuyasha had barely been tame these past few days- only the rosary binding him to any semblance of normalcy now. He huffed and knew the problem wouldn’t be solved today, choosing instead to return his thoughts to his blue-eyed daydream. 

Trying to forget his desire for Kagome, trying to _control_ his desire for her hadn’t worked. Thoughts of her came to him at the most inopportune times- during moments of solitude, during his meals, during his studies in Hades’ library, during reapings of souls. Everywhere and anywhere he was seemed to be rife with small things that related to her. 

Always at the end of every remembrance, the amount of time left in her life flashed before his eyes like a knife in the heart, a vital organ that was no longer benumbed in the caricature of death. Sesshoumaru had desired sensation when it had been lost to him and now, the agony of emotion, the ridiculous desire to protect her from the inevitability of her Death, made him wish for sensation’s lack once more. 

He, the famed Taiyoukai of the West, was falling in love with a dying woman. And, he could not stop himself no matter how hard he tried. 

Had Persephone known of his curiosity in regards to the priestess the day Hades had given him the power of Death? Had the Goddess of Spring forced him to care for the Shikon no Miko on purpose? He wondered at such cruelty when despite having to miss her mother for three months of the year, she was completely happy at the side of her husband. Surely, such happiness wouldn’t engender the desire to harm others. The gardens here weren’t _that_ foreboding. 

Pushing his thoughts away from gods he would never comprehend, he returned to his perusal of the god’s library. He had been searching for a way to extend mortal life by centuries, or tie a mortal life to that of an immortal creature. The only information he had come up with was something called the Sorcerer’s Stone and the youkai mating bond. He had already known of the latter; but, without being allowed to court the miko first, he could not possibly mate her- the bond wouldn’t take without her love in return. 

Besides, she also had to be amiable to sharing his lifespan. As one of the most powerful beings on the planet, he would live long. Not many mortals would care for such a life. Then again, his miko was a most curious mortal. She was quite possibly the only being on the face of the planet excited to see Death. A smile lifted his mouth at the thought. 

“Death has always been fascinated with Life.” The Hell butterfly fanned its wings slowly in front of him. “It is inevitable that you, the favored of Death, share a similar fateline.” 

Sesshoumaru frowned, having grown to value Arro and his lessons. “She is going to die, Arro.” 

The butterfly fluttered its wings as if irritated with him. “Not all who are dying, die.” 

Confused, Sesshoumaru watched his Hell butterfly drift away from him. His eyebrow rose as his guide wandered out of sight, no doubt to go enjoy pomegranate nectar in the courtyard. He eyed the steak on his plate, pushing it away after a moment. 

He wasn’t even hungry these days. ~*~


	8. Chapter 8

VIII:

 _Two Months Later…_

Kagome’s fought to keep her exhausted hands steady as she fired yet another arrow into the horde. Somewhere in the distance, Naraku cackled and drove her nerves to distraction. She wondered where her protector was- the stupid inuyoukai who had shattered her heart little by little over the past three months with his continued, pointed absence. What right did he have to look so bloody happy at her confession? What right did he have to give her hope with that look in his eyes?! 

_Asshole._

The next arrow, swollen with her anger, blew away half the field and finally turned Naraku’s attention towards her. Her thoughts fell away as she turned to face her nemesis, nocking an arrow and aiming at his heart. Raw fury filled her when she saw the condescension on his face. 

Didn’t think she could hurt him, did he? Well, then. 

Kagome released the arrow, making sure that it was so bright that he would be caught by at least some of its radius. Within seconds, the dark-haired hanyou was trying to convert her power for his own uses, cradling it even as it ate away at his body. It made for a grotesque sight, the blood and bone of his torso slowly revealed in the pure white light of her miko powers. Naraku seemed to realize abruptly that he was disintegrating faster than he was healing and aimed a hand at the priestess of the jewel he coveted, screaming in rage and pain. 

She flinched, knowing that whatever nefarious spell he was going to throw at her wasn’t escapable. Unless, of course, the _asshole_ showed up and foiled Naraku’s last attempt at evil-doing by hoisting her out of harm’s way. As if conjured by her thoughts, which she knew he was not because it hadn’t worked for the past three months, the object of her broken affections annihilated the evil hanyou’s attack, shielding her from the gory debris. 

Her feet were gently placed on the ground before he turned back to the pile of ash and bone shards, a large, wicked looking bloody sickle held in his hands. With a coldly gleeful look, he disappeared from their view, sickle swinging, the echoes of a horrific scream marking his presence and proclaiming Naraku’s descent into Hell. 

Kagome shuddered at Sesshoumaru’s display of power- knowing without a doubt that Naraku was truly gone, his soul already having been harvested for the Underworld. She barely caught the jewel chunk Inuyasha threw at her face as exhaustion crept over her. Irritation threatened to swallow her, the stress of Sesshoumaru abandoning her after her confession, the battle, Naraku finally being dead, the responsibility of being a powerful miko, the responsibility of being part of a _legend_ finally catching up to her. 

It was over. 

Dear gods. It was over. Her eyes closed, the cascade of emotions swelling in her throat, tears pricking her eyes. 

“Come on, wench! We don’t have all day! I need to make my wish!” Inuyasha’s fangs were bared, his tone rough and aggressive, startling all of them. They took in his stance, the way Tetsusaiga was still naked and pulsing with his power. 

She frowned at him, keeping her mouth closed so that the volcano of emotion didn’t explode out. Without a doubt, Kagome knew that Inuyasha could not have the completed jewel. His wish, reminiscent of his selfish and abhorrent nature, would bring devastation and chaos to the world. She could not, would not allow such a thing to occur. Still, he was physically more powerful than she was and he would kill her for the jewel if it came to that. 

Her thoughts stilled when a pair of strong arms enfolded her in a shadow-scented embrace and released her next to the clear waters of a beautiful beach once more. The sight of such serenity, the sight of her last and most painful encounter with him, splintered something fragile in her. _Sesshoumaru._ S

he turned to him, the tears pooling in her eyes and beginning to slope down her cheeks, her vision so blurry she couldn’t see him let alone his worry at her reaction. “You _asshole_ ,” she sobbed, hands clutching at his shirt. 

Sesshoumaru held her carefully to him, sitting down on the sand and cradling her between his legs. He rested his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of jasmine and purity, his heart picking up in tempo with her warmth seeping into his skin. She was the sensation in his sensationless world and he did not know what he was going to do when Death came for her. 

He was a fool to be holding her like this, to delight in her scent, to want her taste in his mouth forever. His heart twisted painfully at the thought of not feeling her with his old senses, of not talking to her and watching her eyes sparkle with her happiness before she was lost to him. He sighed soundlessly as she cried, holding her just a little bit closer, aware that his attempt of nullifying his desire for her had been a waste of time. Precious, wondrous, irreplaceable time. 

The Hell butterfly fluttered from her cheek to his ear. “Not all who are dying, die.” 

Sesshoumaru shook his head, cheek resting against the smoothness of her hair. How could he defy Death after the honor bestowed upon him? 

Arro fluttered against his eyelashes, unwilling to be ignored. “Having been gifted Death’s power, your fate follows the thread of his.” 

Kagome’s sobs were beginning to fade, her hands rising to wipe at her tears. 

Arro tried once more. “Lady Spring saw in Lady Miko her own past.” 

Sesshoumaru straightened, staring at Arro incredulously. His heart paused, hopeful. If he truly shared a similar fate with Hades then, he was fated for a different outcome than the bleak one he had been pondering. 

The Lord of Death had marked Lady Spring with the taste of pomegranate to keep her by his side at the expense of the Goddess Demeter. Once fated to dance only in the sun, to never journey to the Underworld, Persephone had caught the eye of Hades centuries ago. He had kidnapped her, brought her to his Palace and taught her to love him as he had grown to love her. When the gods intervened and demanded the return of Persephone, Hades had tricked his wife into tasting the red fruit of his kingdom. Once she had eaten of the pomegranate, she had to return to her husband’s side; and, so the gods allowed the marriage to stand. Three months of the year Persephone stayed with Hades alone, three with her bereft mother, Demeter; and the rest between the two as she chose. The fates hadn’t spoken against the union, their weaving, when asked, still perfect; and, thusly the story of Hades and Persephone became a love story, one of the greatest of the myths. 

“Kagome is my Persephone?” He questioned the little butterfly fluttering before him. 

Kagome shifted against him, sniffling. “What?” 

Arro simply turned and fluttered away much to Sesshoumaru’s astonishment. “Hibiscus is said to taste like pomegranate.” 

Sesshoumaru looked down into her pink-shadowed eyes, the heartbreak he had seen in her evident on her face. He lifted a hand to run through her hair, cradling her neck, thumb tilting her face higher. The look in his eyes- pure, unadultered pleasure, stole Kagome’s breath, made her pulse race. “You are my Persephone.” 

Her mouth parted, eyes shadowing and turning a deeper blue with sadness. “Then why did you leave me alone for three months?” 

He frowned at her sadness and knew that he still wasn’t going to tell her about what little time she had left. After all, it was irrelevant now and so he settled for a half truth. “I have taken up Death, Kagome. It is a great responsibility.” 

Not all who were dying actually died. He smiled at her when she rubbed her chest, irrationally pleased that she had been so affected by his absence even though he had been as well. “I am falling in love with you too, Kagome.” 

Startled cerulean blue eyes flew up to his. She seemed unwilling to believe him, her hands pressing against his chest in her astonishment. “What?” 

He chuckled, filling the air around them with the sound of low amusement. Her mouth parted, a sliver of happiness lighting her gaze, mouth curving upwards just a bit. Without another thought, he kissed her, gently taking the time to savor the feel of her lips, the taste of her against his tongue. 

He felt her hands drift around his neck, tracing his stripes, the column of his neck, as she began to reciprocate his affection. To her credit, she learned what he liked rather quickly, the feel of his pulse against her fingers rather telling. His skin warmed beneath her touch, the pendant around her neck hot. 

He felt her smile when he pulled her closer, lifting her legs around his waist so that they were pressed together. She groaned when he shifted against her, made him do it again just to hear the sound of her pleasure. 

“Wait,” she pulled away, gasping. “Wait. I’m not that kind of girl, Sesshoumaru.” 

He paused, his own short breaths mimicking hers. He cradled her face in one of his hands, tracing her jawline, hypnotizing her with the slow, sexy smile that crept over his face as he took in the sight of her so disheveled. 

“No, Kagome.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, his tongue tracing the seam teasingly. She whimpered, eyes unfocused, when he pulled away and his smile widened. “You are mine.” 

Kagome leaned forward, hands wrapping in his hair and pulling him down to her. She kissed him hard, licking his bottom lip and delighting when he pulled her closer. It was his turn to groan when she pulled away. She smirked and breathed against his mouth. “Says who?” 

“ _Fate_.” His hands drifted over hers and unclasped the jewel from her fingers. The desire to turn her eyes smoky with passion growing like an unquenchable flame within him. “Do your duty, priestess. Wish the Jewel away from the mortal plane.” S

he smiled at him, laying her hand over his and closing her eyes. When she lifted her hand away, the Jewel was gone. “It is back with the gods, where it belongs.” 

He nodded and tumbled her onto her back, settling between her thighs unabashedly delighting in her blush. “Now, how do you feel about being in Death’s embrace?” 

Her joyous laughter tumbled into the air around them.


	9. Chapter 9

_So, till the judgment that yourself arise,  
_

You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes. 

_-William Shakespeare_

IX: 

One Month Later… 

He couldn’t believe he was reduced to sneaking around his own Citadel. Then again, he knew that his mother and the Court would highly disapprove of him resting in the room of his betrothed. It was unseemly for the betrothed pair to see one another so often, apparently. 

He scoffed at the thought of so small a thing as social convention keeping him away from his betrothed. Every two or three days was too long between their meetings for either of them, honestly. 

He had brought her there after that day on the beach, ensconcing her in the Palace of the Western Lands and the stronghold of his mortal power to keep her safe from his vindictive half-brother. He had expected her to make a few friends- her generous power affording her the luxury of being equal to most of the youkai in residence. He had not expected her to befriend almost everyone in his Court. 

It was a good thing, of course. She was going to be their Lady eventually. It was always a good thing for people to like their rulers. It was also helpful in that one of his courtiers had taken it upon themselves to explain the courting rituals of the Court to his miko such that when he gifted her with a baby ice-bird, she had known what it meant. 

He could still remember feeling the blush cross his face when she had returned the first of his courting gifts with her own. Her pleased laughter and the following kiss had saved his pride somewhat. The colored ink set from the future was used only for the recopying of the most esoteric of spells, a scholarly gift that she had known he would enjoy. 

Their second pair of gifts to one another had been just as charming. He had given her a set of jewels that matched her eyes- blue diamonds set in silver. She had been overwhelmed and ultimately charmed when he had kissed her and told her she deserved them. He had been surprised, then, that his words were more important to her than the jewels; but, not after she had given him her second courting gift. He wore the wrist guards now, knew that if he turned them over he would see the words of his favorite poem carved into the smooth face. 

With a gentle click, he closed the windows to his bedroom. 

“Sesshoumaru?” Her voice, soft and husky from sleep, greeted him from the rumple of blankets and furs around her. The fire burned cheerfully in the grate, casting the ornately-decorated room and the four-poster bed into flickering relief. A few candles fluttered with his passing. 

He stepped around the large desk strewn with papers and scrolls, infinitely glad that she had begun to go over some reports for him. He discarded his boots and cloak quickly before crawling onto the bed and curling around her over the blankets. He was too cold to touch her during the winter season. 

In two months he would return to her as a mortal and then nothing was going to stop him from taking her as his bride- including his idiot of a half-brother who was still searching for her if the rumor mill was accurate. 

“Hi,” she murmured sleepily, fighting to keep her eyes open. She smelled like cedar wood and jasmine today and he lifted a brow curiously. A blush came to her cheeks, embarrassment lowering her gaze when she answered. “I’m wearing one of your shirts.” 

The thought made him want to ravish her against the dark silks of his bed and he sighed in disappointment, burying his nose near her cheek. “Do not tempt me, Kagome.” 

She giggled, pleased, leant over to kiss his cheek. “You tempt me simply by walking into the room. I think a little pay back is in order.” 

He shook his head at her playful words as Arro fluttered into his view. 

“There is a frost coming in the East.” 

He drew Kagome up for a kiss, enjoying the feel of her against him. She hummed in approval when he tucked her back into his bed. “Stay well, Kagome.” “I love you, Sesshoumaru.” Her words were soft and shy, her heart in her eyes when he turned back to her having put his shoes and cloak on. 

He smiled at the sight of her surrounded by luxurious furs and silks, hair strewn across one of his pillows. He picked up her warm hand and kissed her palm, the inside of her wrist, lifting his eyes to her. He couldn’t say the words yet, but he let her see his affection for her, his desire for her. 

She smiled at him, so beautifully it made him want to stay; but, he couldn’t. Not yet. “I will see you soon, Kagome.”


End file.
